Letters from Two
by SomethingGold
Summary: After the rebellion, Katniss Everdeen goes home to District Twelve. Gale Hawthorne begins a new life in District Two. These are the letters he writes to Katniss as he tries to sort out what he's feeling and why. Mentions of Everlark. Discussions of the first Games, the Quell, and events from Mockingjay. (Spoilers) Reviews are welcome :)
1. Thank You

Dearest Catnip,

I don't know how these things usually start, but I think a thank you is in order. Thank you because in my darkest hours, when no one knew how much I was struggling, you did. Thank you because you saved me from myself. For the first time, someone cared about me for who I was - not what I looked like. Sure, the snares were what lured you in, but after awhile I'm pretty sure you were the only person who knew what the real Gale felt like. And I loved you for it. Not just in romantic terms, but in the way a person feels when for the first time, they feel safe and understood by another. You gave me that. Until of course, the Capitol took you away.

When you left for those first Games, Catnip, you never came home. I got a different girl. Damaged. Scared. Traumatized. A girl whose first instinct was flight rather than fight. I admit, I didn't understand it for the longest time. I still don't, I guess. All I knew is the Capitol took away my best friend forever. The way your hands shook stringing the bow or the way you looked off into the distance, paralyzed with fear. It scared me. And, I'll admit it, is really what drove me to fight for the rebellion. Because they took away the one real thing I'd ever known. With my family, I always had to be strong - be the person they could count on. Even in Twelve, I had to watch my mouth, hold in what I really believed. But with you… with you I was myself.

Things escalated so fast once you came home that I don't think I ever told you what it felt like to watch those first Games. It felt wrong sipping water when you were so parched. I was afraid to go to sleep at night, fearing that when I woke up, you'd be gone. Then Peeta came into the mix and it made everything so much harder. I think I knew, somewhere, that it was an act. But you try telling yourself that when the Capitol not only forces you to watch your friend die, but has her die kissing someone else. It was sickening. Sometimes, I'd find myself wishing Peeta wouldn't make it. Hoping the blood poisoning would take him before you reached the cure. I hated myself, but I can't pretend the thoughts weren't there.

But you both came home only for the Capitol to throw you into another arena! As if they hadn't already taken everything from you. When the Quell was announced, something shattered inside me. I missed the old Katniss. The one I'd fallen for. I had taken for granted all those wonderful days in the woods with you. Words weren't enough anymore. Just ranting to the trees about how unfair it all was didn't satisfy my need for revenge. I wanted to _do_ something.

The rebellion began. I fought for you. Every time I'd get dispirited, all I had to think about was what the Capitol had done to you and my blood would boil. With every kill, you thought I was heartless. In your eyes, I could see that you no longer completely trusted me. But you didn't see Twelve go up in flames. I was too far gone to realize what I was doing to our relationship.

Peeta Mellark. When he was whole, I still had a chance. Maybe, arrows would win over bread. But once Snow touched him it was all over. If I'm honest, it was truly over when you were in the Quell together. I saw how much you cared about him. The world saw. In Thirteen, you fell apart watching him deteriorate on the screen. There was hardly a trace of the girl I used to hunt with outside Twelve. It felt wrong kissing you because I knew that I was just a substitute for Peeta. A backup. But I did it anyway. I can't explain what I was feeling then, so I won't try.

Yes, his hijacking broke you. But the final straw, the only remaining thing to make your life worth living, wasn't taken from you by the Capitol. It was taken from you by me. Because it was my idea, my bombs, that killed your little sister. Prim was as much a sister to me as she was to you. Every day I miss the way she laughed, her sensitive heart and healing hands. Your sister was an extension of my family. And I let her die. No, I let her burn. I wish I could go back and remove any idea of double-exploding bombs from my head. Trust me, I would do it in a heartbeat. I killed the one beautiful thing that Snow hadn't yet destroyed. The little blonde girl who meant the world to you is ashes because of me. "I'm sorry" will never encompass the amount of shame and regret that plagues me.

I suppose you think I didn't come home because I was ashamed or scared. That's part of it. But I also knew that any interaction between you and I would just bring pain to us both. I didn't want that for you. Every time I try and conjure up your face, I see hers next to it. I know it must be the same for you. Perhaps someday I'll return to Twelve, when we've both moved on, pieced ourselves back together the best we can. But for now, I belong here in Two.

I'm not writing this letter to beg forgiveness because what I've done isn't worth that. I don't even know if you'll open this letter. Maybe it will just sit in a pile with all the other sob stories people have written you. Maybe when you see my name on it, you'll let the embers of your fire swallow it up. But if you do read this, just know that I had to write it. Had to get the feelings down on paper to sort out what all of them were. To try and let go.

Things will never be the same between us, but I hope you know I much I loved you. Just having you on my side for so many years. I miss you, Catnip. Everyday. I'm leaving the remainder of this quote open in hope that when you read it, you'll finish it for me. Maybe it'll remind you of all the days we used to spend in the woods eating blackberries together.

 _May the odds -_

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	2. Waiting

Hey Catnip,

I don't know if you ever opened my last letter, but it helped me a lot, so I decided to write another. As I go about my day, I make note of things I'd tell you if you were here. It helps a little. Spring is supposed to be the time for rebirth. The period after winter when the woods turn green, but I'm just going through the motions. I guess I should have a lot be be grateful for. My job. My life. My health. But I can't help thinking that I'm alive and Prim is not, something that you must despise me for.

Yesterday, I went into the woods and sat on a rock for awhile. It reminded me of our old meeting place. When I closed my eyes, I could almost make myself believe it was. Do remember the woods here in Two? Where we hunted briefly while trying to crack the Nut? They may not be "our woods" , but still similar enough to make it hurt.

I have something to confess. There are some days when I wish there'd never been a rebellion. I must be going mad. People were starving and the reaping took kids every year. Twelve was basically a huge tomb. But everything was so much simpler. You and had a routine. Hunting. Fishing. Setting up snares. If the Games hadn't taken you, would we still be doing that? I have to remind myself that things would have gotten more complicated anyway. I'd still be in the mines. Maybe our siblings would still have been reaped. No, we had to get rid of the Capitol. But I just thought I'd let you know how I felt. Honesty was another thing that you allowed me to have.

Now I know why you'd scream in your sleep and thrash around. Nightmares. Do you have any advice on how to handle them? That and the self hatred. Yesterday I woke up and was pondering the point of living with all this pain. How do you deal with it?

Posy says hello. She doesn't quite understand what's happened and keeps asking when you're coming back. I don't have the heart to tell her never. Vick and Rory get it though. They know Prim's gone and so are you. I heard them talking about it last night.

I hope you're okay. People said the hurting would get better over time but all I feel is it growing. There's a numb hole where my heart used to be. My mother says we're in a waiting period now. We have to feel the hurt before it goes away.

I miss you, Catnip. Remember, you're welcome anytime. Even if you just want to see Posy or the boys.

Still waiting.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	3. Don't Have the Heart

Catnip,

I don't know if you remember, but today is Posy's birthday. This morning, she asked if you were coming to celebrate at dinner. I told her you'd gone away for a bit. She begged me to let her write to you, but at six her writing skills aren't all that great. So I consented to write down what she said:

 _Katniss, when will you come? I miss you. When you come will you braid my hair? Mommy does good braids but you do better ones. Also bring meat. It tastes better when you bring it. I gathered some flowers for when you come and put them in the spare bedroom you'll sleep in. How long will it take for you to get here? Can Prim sleep in my room? Then she can sing me a lullaby. Also, it's my birthday and I think there will be cake. See you soon,_

 _Posy_

I just couldn't tell her that you weren't coming to visit anytime soon. Hopefully she'll forget. I thought I'd come to terms with it all. Accepted that you were truly gone. But hearing Posy say those things - it was all I could do to write it down. I miss you so much today Catnip. It's like my heart is being stretched from here to Twelve and I can't find a way to unhook it from either end. Please understand that I'm not begging you to be different. Things are the way they are. I just wish that _I_ were different. My hand hurts now from pressing so hard on this pen. I think I'll stop for today.

Hope you're faring better than I am. Missing you doesn't nearly portray the pain I feel today.

Always your hunting partner,

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	4. Happy Berry Picking

**A/N-** I'm _very happy with the response these letters have received! Thanks XD. People have been commenting about the tone of the letters as they go on so I'm eager to see what everyone_ thinks _about this one._

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Dear Catnip,

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write you another letter but every time I've tried to put pen to paper it comes out sounding either forced or shrewd. Anger sort of crashed over me like a wave this past month. I got angry with Rory last night and yelled at him. I apologized this morning, but I still haven't forgiven myself. It's like I'm seeing myself from afar for the first time and I don't recognize the guy I see. What's happening to me Catnip? Was it the war that changed me or have I always been this harsh?

The blackberries have ripened and now they hang heavy on the bushes, another sign that things are wrong. We'd never have let those berries just sit there untouched. I couldn't stand to look at them like that, so Posy and I went picking today. That was at least better than coming home from work and milling around.

I do have some good news for a change. A couple of the younger guys who came back to Two without major injuries and I have been chosen to help with the rebuilding of the district. It gives me something to take my mind of things. It'll be a lot of clearing rubble for a while - between the heavy bombing and the Nut mission, hardly any of Two is still intact. The job does make me wonder what Twelve looks like now. Are they keeping some of the same layout or is it unrecognizable? Have the ashes blown away along with the remains of the Seam? Is the Meadow still there?

Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the blackberries in Twelve as I enjoy them here. As Posy and my mother made a blackberry preserve with the berries we collected today, I was reminded of the time we surprised our families with blackberries in their breakfast mush. The memory made me smile, something I haven't done in awhile.

Happy Berry Picking, Catnip!

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	5. Changing Leaves and Philosophies

Happy Fall Catnip,

Have the leaves turned in Twelve yet? They were so pretty when we were kids, weren't they? I can picture the woods now - all red, orange, and gold - with the sunlight filtering through the trees. Remember how hard it was to make no noise? Even your cat feet would sometimes catch on the occasional crackling leaf and my boots would sometimes disrupt a pile of them. The animals were a lot easier to find though. Like that doe who made so much noise we thought it was a bear.

Today we made plans for a memorial to those lost in the Nut. Because of the plan I came up with. Catnip, you wouldn't believe the number of names on the list of those perished. Actually, maybe you would. Because you tried to tell me that it was inhuman. Taking the Nut was necessary though. It helped bring around the defeat of the Capitol. Those people sacrificed their lives for a better Panem. At least, that's what I tell myself. Because looking at those names makes me really hollow. I think that's something you'd understand. I did do the right thing, didn't I? I hope their memorial reflects how important their deaths were to the war effort and honors them properly.

I was assuming Twelve would do a memorial for those lost in the firebombs, but as I look at the list of names from the Nut attack, I realized just how many names would have to be on it. Probably we'd miss a few. That's what haunts me. How many people who had a story, memories, people they cared about and who cared about them died and we don't even know their names. Everyone in this country is living a life, just like us. They're dealing with the same feelings and emotions. How can we as human beings treat each other so terribly? How can we possibly inflict pain on another so similar to ourselves. If only we understood each other better. Maybe things would be different.

Who'd ever thought I'd be capable of such philosophical thoughts, huh? You used to tease me about my insensitivity back when everything was just a game. I'm writing this letter in the woods on that rock I told you about earlier. It's a nice rock. Steady even when I'm not.

Maybe someday things will change. Until then, enjoy the harvest.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	6. The First Snow

**A/N-** I _was asked how much time has passed since the first letter: Gale sent the first one right after the rebellion so end of winter/early spring. This is now the beginning of winter so about a year has passed. Enjoy!_

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The first snow fell today Catnip.

At first, the swirling flakes reminded me of those stained red as the rebels took the Capitol that snowy morning last winter. But it's not the same snow. It's brand new - these flakes formed themselves from puddles and trickling streams on pavement and gravel. They went from something liquid to a solid form just like so many of us are trying to do here in Two - pick ourselves up and piece each other into something new.

Posy wasn't in the Capitol that morning that it fell. She didn't see the snow littered with ash and bullets. She, Vick, Rory, and my mother have all settled into the house we share now. They were torn about going back to Twelve, but I guess seeing how so many families were ripped apart by this war changed their minds. The minute Vick hollered out that the snow was sticking, she and the boys ran out into the snow. It took some convincing, but eventually they dragged me out there too. Posy caught snowflakes on her tongue. Rory and Vick didn't have quite enough snow to make a snowball so it was mostly dirt, but it didn't really matter. Once, I caught our mother staring out the window at us. She was smiling, but I'm pretty sure I saw a few tears.

The peppermint tea tastes like our days back in the woods when we'd sit side by side drinking from the hot flasks. It's strange because now when I think about you or remember something that happened in the old days, it doesn't hurt like it used to. It makes me happy because I realize now just how many memories we share. I'm still missing you every day. I know you'd have dumped snow down my back and run away laughing. Sometimes at night I wonder where you are and what you're doing. But things are getting better.

Careful not to burn your mouth on this winter's tea.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	7. School and Snowdrifts

Catnip,

We are officially buried in snow. It fell in heaps this past week and the makeshift school my mother set up for the few kids left in Two had to be suspended until it melts. Did I tell you about that? I might have forgotten with everything else I wanted to say. But my mother decided to teach Vick, Rory, and Posy the best she could because she's worried that they'll have too big a gap by the time a real school is set up again. They left in the middle of the year in Twelve thanks to the bombing, then got a bit of schooling in Thirteen, but it's been all jumbled and fragmented. When other mothers heard about what she was doing, they asked if their children could join her daily lessons. It sort of just grew into a little school. Lessons are held in our house right now, but there's talk about moving them to a bigger building when Two's rebuilt.

Posy didn't even get to finish one year at a real school, so she doesn't know the difference, but the boys do. I asked them which they liked better. Vick says he misses the larger class, but both of them agree that the lessons are more interesting now that our mother teaches them.

The snow reminded me of something else too. It reminded me of your mother and Prim after I got flogged. The way their gentle hands laid that snow coat on my flesh. I had a bad moment there as I remembered what that felt like. It also brought back that brief moment when I thought things were going to be okay between us. But it passed. Remember, it always does.

What about you, Catnip? What's winter brought Twelve? Is the snow deep or has the weather been mild? It's been almost a year since the rebellion ended. Personally, I think President Paylor is handling things really well. She's just the person we need in charge after all that's happened. Just between you and me, I would have probably shot Coin too had it been up to me. There was something unnerving about the way she waltzed in and took power. All I'm saying is, you didn't surprise me one bit Mockingjay.

Keep warm and dry.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	8. Light at the End of the Tunnel

**A/N-** Hey _guys, I've been noticing many reviews have been debating whether Katniss should have chosen Gale over Peeta. It's probably the most debated topic in our fandom, but unless it has something to do directly with the chapter, please refrain from posting._

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I had a strange dream last night.

You were in it, Catnip. There was snow on the ground, but it was melting - just like it is now. I was in the woods. Our woods. The ones back in Twelve. My father was there, teaching me to rig a snare. His hand guiding mine. Then the sun burned up and he disappeared. For awhile, I just stood there, completely confused and lost. After a bit, you walked out of the woods. I couldn't see you very clearly, but the light came back. All golden and warm. I knew, somehow, that you and the light were connected. You handed me something and then I woke up.

I know you're asking what that something was, but I can't remember. It's killing me.

It's weird, but I think the dream was my brain processing things. My father see, he was my light for awhile. He was the support beam in my life. And then the mines took him. In my dream, that was represented by the sun exploding. There was a dark period in my life for awhile after his death. I was still so young and tasked with taking care of my whole family. My mother is so pregnant that she couldn't really do anything until the baby was born and then, she needed to find work. The day I met you, the light came back. Not completely - I was still angry - and it took awhile for me to realize it - but somehow, you brought meaning back into my life.

Writing all this down, I think I know now what you handed me in my dream. You handed me my freedom. The chance to be myself. If that much is true, then right now, I'm in that same dark period. Post war trauma. Losing you. Losing Prim. But maybe, somehow, that was my brain telling me that light's coming. Somewhere, at the end of this tunnel, the sun will return. I'm holding onto that.

Thanks for being someone I could confide in all these years. Thanks for being my light. Hope you're well, Catnip.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	9. Birthday Wishes

Happy birthday Catnip,

Well, it's May. You didn't think I'd forget your day did you? It's strange because usually we'd spend this day hunting. I can only hope you're doing something much more celebratory. Please, don't spend it by yourself. Go and find someone to share it with. Anyone. Even that orange cat.

My mother suggested we all write you a letter, but I walked out before she could finish. I do that whenever anyone brings up something about you. Until I've processed it myself I can't talk about it with anybody. Even my family. Instead, I escape to the woods. Where I can breathe. It's where I do my best thinking, but of course, you already know that.

It's been more than a year now and I still have some mornings where I feel like I could bring the house down with my rage. I don't know what to think now. That I'm sorry things had to be this way? But we chose this. You and I, we could see each other if we wanted. Even now, if you showed up at my door, would I want to talk? Relive everything that I'm trying to forget? I'd let you in, that's for sure. But anything beyond that - I don't know - I'm suffocating in my own brain these days. My thoughts drown me.

Anyhow, happy birthday, Catnip. Sorry for the short letter.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	10. An Empty House

Dear Catnip,

I moved. Now that houses are being built in Two, my mother thought it was a good time for me to have one of my own. She and the kids live nearby, but I think she thought it was a good idea for me to have my own space. Except, it wasn't a good idea because now I have no one to distract me from my thoughts. I never realized how empty a house feels when you're the only one in it. Is this how you felt when you went home? With your mother in Four and Prim... Does it get better?

Last night was my first night here. When I woke up, I had a terrifying moment when I thought my family had been taken hostage. There was no one answering my shouts and I think I broke a glass vase that was sitting on the counter. But then I remembered where I was and once my heart stopped pounding, I was able to clean up.

My mother calls and visits almost five times a day. I think it's hard for her to see me like this. She was here earlier with Posy and Vick. Rory was out with "a friend". She came to Two with her uncle after her parents were killed in District Seven. She and Rory have been spending a lot of time together and well… you can guess the rest. I guess she's pretty. She has flaxen hair and these big brown eyes. Rory won't let any of us talk about her other than in passing.

Now, the house is empty again. There's no one here but me and this letter. I wonder if it will ever reach your hands. Will your eyes ever read these words?

Hope the summer brings better times for both of us.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	11. Mockingjay Sighting

Catnip,

Please don't take this the wrong way.

I saw you on the news for the first time in months. Since you shot Coin, you've been released from the public eye. I don't know whether the media was being humane (it's not something they're known for) or if Paylor prohibited them from covering you until things were sorted out, but after your trial, there was an eery lack of you on the screens. But we're nearing the two year anniversary of the new Panem and I guess a commemoration was in order. I don't know if you've seen it yet, but they did shots of all the districts. Most of them are almost rebuilt. Which means that I saw Twelve for the first time in years.

It looks like - like home, really. I don't know how else to describe it. You guys haven't really changed anything from the original design. The buildings are all new and cleaner than I've ever seen them but… same feel. Same Twelve.

And of course, they did some shots of the Mockingjay. It took me a moment to recognize you, Catnip. You look so grown up and so - so beautiful. Not in a romantic way. You have to remember, the last time I saw you, you were burned and really nothing but a shell of the girl you once were. This Katniss looked almost peaceful. Underneath that, there was a heaviness. That's how I know that you've been prisoner to the same guilt and sadness that I have. You were on the steps of your house. I've stood on those very same steps. Haymitch was there. And so was Peeta.

So he came home. I'd given it some thought, I suppose. But now I'm sure. And you know what's strange? I'm almost glad. Sure, the sadness will came later. The overwhelming sense of what could have been. But I'm so glad that you aren't alone. That he's there for you.

Because, I admit, I've had nights where sleep has been scared away by the images of you alone. Maybe scared. Huddled up in a big, lonely house that creaks. Haunted by memories. So, if it wasn't me, I'm glad it was him.

The way his arm was around you, like he was vowing to protect you against anything, it gave me comfort. I've said it to you before - Peeta's hard to hate. His heart is so good. Better than mine. You deserve someone like him. Someone who'll love you no matter what. He's been through hell and yet… he still loves you undoubtedly. Unconditionally. And after everything you've been through, you need someone that steady at your side. That's something I couldn't ever compete with. Seeing you two, smiling, it gave me hope. If you're okay and safe, if you've learned to move on, then maybe I can too.

Remember that crushing sadness I talked about? I'm not going to pretend that it's not there. Envy is also contributing. But you're okay. You've pieced yourself back together… at least a little bit. And I'm also ashamed. Because I've been sitting here, wallowing in misery, when the Mockingjay, the one who was damaged and hurt by the Capitol much more than I ever was, has handled things better.

So thank you for that closure. For helping me begin to move on. Thank Peeta for me, too. I know I can count on him to do what I never could - protect you.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	12. A Change in the Wind

Dearest Catnip,

Today was the first day I really felt like myself. The leaves are at their peak of color, bursting into wild oranges, reds, and golds. The air smells crisp and fresh. The apples are sweet and the cider they make is warm and spicy. When you walk, the ground crunches with fallen leaves. For some reason, the sky always seems to be the most blue in the fall. Maybe it doesn't want the leaves to outshine it.

I went over to my family's house today. My mother looked surprised to see me at the door - I think she was beginning to think I'd hole up by myself forever. Posy hugged me around the legs and I lifted her up into the air and spun her around for the first time in awhile.

Two celebrated the harvest recently with a festival. I didn't go, but I could hear the celebration. That was one of the days I thought I was drowning. Vick told me about the food - how lots of people had gone apple picking and then baked them into delicious pies and tarts. Apparently, there was a whole table set aside for desserts.

The only person who wasn't there to greet me was Rory. When I asked Vick, he got a sly look on his face and dragged me to his room. He told me Rory has been spending a lot of time out. Either apple picking, or in the woods, he always has a reason to be gone. But he never exactly says who he's going with. Then, at the harvest festival, Vick had caught Rory and the girl - his "friend" - kissing. According to Vick, he was being a good brother when he didn't tell our mother, but I think he knew Rory would pummel him if he ever found out that Vick was spying. I, on the other hand, am bigger than Rory. I could say something now, if I wanted. Maybe tease him a little. And I will when I get the chance. But for now, I find the whole thing endearing. Let the kid have some experience with love. It only gets harder from here. Anyway, autumn seems to be bearing a change. Hope this one is here to stay.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	13. A Normal Rhythm

I'm sorry it's been so long since I last wrote.

Things have been really busy here in Two. A good busy. The snow fell, there were buildings to insulate, plans to be initiated. But now it's turning to slush and spring is on the horizon. Which means I finally have some time to pick up a pen, believe it or not.

I don't have any real news. Life has settled into a rhythm. My mother's makeshift school was transferred to the brand new building we had constructed especially for her. I think she's going to enlist some more teachers and perhaps by the time summer comes, our children will have a real school again. My job is steady. Every morning, I rise with the sun and head to the center of town.

There was a time when every day was a struggle. I could identify every minute because they were wrought with nightmares and memories. But now, the days have bled together. Felt more like _life._ Steady, consistent. Normal.

It's a word I haven't heard in a long, long, long time. Normal didn't describe the Games. Nor did it describe the rebellion. I guess you could call our hunting days "normal" - they certainly were for us - but we were still doing it illegally. And now I don't have to hide that. I can hunt anytime I want, granted that it's not cutting into my job.

I saw a glimpse of that "normal" when I saw you on TV. I still look for you sometimes. That everyday, easy feeling you portrayed - like things had happened the way they were supposed to. I guess that's why you were the Mockingjay. Because what you do and feel has such an impact on the rest of us. We look to you. And even though I know you hate it, it's true. You always say that you can't help those who look at you for help and guidance, but I don't think that's true. You helped me a lot. I think I'm finally putting my life together, stringing it into a daily chain of events that make sense. A normal rhythm. Thank you.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	14. The New Panem

Catnip,

As spring fades to a close and summer's on it's way, folks around here are starting to look forward to a bit of a break. The children have been going to the new school building and now the talk is of the vacation. For those of us finishing up the building, we're excited for a little bit of time off too.

The district is looking great - we've nearly got everything up and running again. Pretty soon we'll have the railroad working. There's plans for civilian transportation, so people can get from district to district - not just coal and crops! It'll be so different than the old Panem, when we never knew about anything that wasn't right in front of our noses. We got a new shipment of materials, like paper and fabric, so people can start to take up their hobbies again. We've got many stores and business up and running and the hope is to get more open in the coming months.

I can only hope this democracy works. That we don't revert back to our old ways. Every day I wake up, amazed that we could have let that go on for so long. Look at the ways people can express their freedom now. How did we ever let the Capitol suppress us like that? As long as I'm alive, and hopefully after that, Panem will be a place where people can _live -_ not just survive. We've never really experienced the former before - any of us. And it's kind of special to see new life budding. The new generation will grow up in a better place that we helped make possible. That's what I think about now whenever I get lost in memories.

Hope you're well.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	15. The Little Things

**A/N-** The _quote I use in here is an actual quote- I didn't make it up. I'm just using it._

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Hey Catnip,

The heat rolled in and we're sweltering. Even though we were all asking for this a couple weeks ago, Two can't set foot outside without sweating buckets. The sun burns our faces and arms and everyone looks a bit like a tomato now.

There's not much else new here. I've been promoted. Rory officially has a girlfriend (my mother definitely shed some tears when that announcement came out. Apparently her children grow up too fast) Posy is learning to read. And Vick spend a lot of time building things in the yard. I think he might come out to help with the final stage of rebuilding- at least for experience.

So how are things faring in Twelve? Bet it's hot. It's funny because lately, the little things have been reminding me of you. You'd think the big things would remind me of you, like talking about the war and the future - and I guess a little bit they do. That might never change because I'll always remember the Katniss who changed my life. But it's the small ones that trigger it most times. I'll see someone with dark hair and for a moment, it's you. Berries. A rock or fallen branch. And you know something else? I'm reminded of the Katniss in the woods. We needed each other then. It was a season. A brief time. But we've grown up. Changed. We don't have that same need now.

There's a quote written in one of my mother's old journals and it goes something like "sometimes you miss the memories, but not the person themselves"

I think that's the perfect quote for us.

Hope the heat's not too awful.

Signed,

 ** _Gale_**


	16. Sad, Solemn, and Settled

Catnip,

These letters are so different from the ones I first wrote. I've been thinking about it and I'm pretty sure it's because there's nothing left to be settled between us. Nothing left unsaid. When I first wrote to you, there was still so much happening. The rebels had Panem, but what to do with it? I personally had so much to sort through. So much to come to terms with. I was angry, confused, a little in denial. That came through in my notes. The words would come pouring from my head and onto the paper - sometimes I'd struggle to get it all down.

But now, the conversation is more like our old chats in the woods. Small talk. Mentions of this and that. Sometimes a deep philosophical idea would surface or a burst of pent up anger. We said what we were feeling and now, this is what I'm feeling. Saddened. Solemn. And settled.

It's been years since the events of the rebellion happened, and even though they are still grisly in my mind, they also feel as if they happened to another Gale. Another person. Even before that, with the Hunger Games every year - it's so awful in retrospect I don't know how we stood it for so long. But the one thing that will always have happened to this Gale is my time with you. Because even though that era has faded, my memories of you will always taste like blackberries and smell like woodsmoke.

Signed,

 ** _Gale_**


	17. Moonlight

__**A/N-** _I changed my username- it's still me! This is a little more than three years after the rebellion. If you look back through the letters, you can identify the five stages of grief that Gale has more_ or _less gone through. He is leaving the depression stage and entering that of acceptance. **I know people have been asking for Katniss to reply. Keep reading and you may just get your wish :)**_

* * *

Catnip,

Isn't strange how consistent the earth is? I mean, just in the past century alone, mankind has wreaked so much havoc the animals and trees must be laughing at our stupidity. Two full blown rebellions and seventy-five years of Hunger Games. But the same four seasons have cycled through every year. Every year, the rivers and streams flow downhill. The animals gather and hibernate and move through the circle of life. The moon is the same one that's been up there through the whole thing. Every day, every single bloody day.

Tonight, that moon was full. As I stared up at it, I wondered if you did too. Maybe you looked up at the same time I did and our thoughts connected. Probably not, but it was a comforting thought. Mostly because the news hasn't covered you in awhile.

I must admit, part of me is glad because I think I'd prefer to move on without the media throwing images of you in my face every minute. I can't explain it, but sometimes I still ache at the thought of how much the war changed Panem. I won't pretend that I understand anything that happened to you in those Games, but maybe it feels a little bit like this. Wanting to forget, but afraid to let go. Sound familiar?

I also suspect, even three years later, that you're still angry with me. And that's something that no amount of letters will change and I'm not writing them for that purpose. These letters help me. They've become my therapy. My way to release the memories of the rebellion and the Games.

And with that moon winking at the whole world - at every single person in Panem - I think I might be able to do just that.

Signed,

 ** _Gale_**


	18. Paylor's Democracy

Did you see Paylor's speech last night, Catnip?

They broadcasted it on the big screen in the square. She has a way of empowering people - a skill that Coin never quite grasped. She was always so succinct when she gave speeches. But when Paylor speaks, she can immediately restore the heart in people. She's so strong and really, one of us. And that's the best person to govern our new nation. Watching her brought tears to many people's eyes last night.

It's been a little over three and a half years since we elected her. Democracy is such a new concept to most of us that I doubt it's really been functioning until recently. We've elected our representatives from Two this past month (quite a process) and, hopefully, we'll be able to create fair laws and equal rights. But you know me, Katniss, and I'm always skeptical. I think democracy will work, but for how long? Two rebellions in just seventy or so years tell me that we're an unstable species. We're unpredictable and not willing to stand injustice for long, but also power hungry. What happens when we get someone like that in office again. I'll tell you what happens: he decides to strike fear into the districts to prevent them from rebelling. He takes their children and puts them in an arena to kill each other. I feel confident that as long as Paylor's in charge, things will be okay. But what happens when she's gone and so are we? Will the world just complete another cycle? Will humans continue to wage war on each other until nothing is left? Who would miss us? Certainly not the earth that we've burned, bombed and trampled upon.

I don't know, Katniss. I guess the future generations will have to live life for themselves.

Government is complicated. Democracy is an unknown territory. And my hand hurts from writing. So, goodnight and sleep well.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	19. The Dead

Where do they go when they die?

Do they just… stop existing? Does their soul fade away? Do they have any idea how the world changes or how much people miss them? Do you think they understand that they show up in dreams and nightmares. The occasional thought or daydream?

Or perhaps, they go on living. Their souls, I mean. Maybe they're watching us now, at peace with everything that's happened. Do they feel sorry for us? That we have to live with these memories when they themselves have found rest?

Sometimes I think they're angry. That we got to live and they didn't. That they were the price of freedom. I don't know, though, I can't see Prim wishing for vengeance.

It's strange because it's taken this long for the question to come up. When you're numb, the only thing you can think about is yourself. Is the way _you_ hurt people. The way _you_ could have done things differently to change the outcome. But as time goes on, that changes. Big surprise. It seems like everything changes these days. I've begun to wonder about them. About those final moments. Is the body like a cage? Sometimes it feels like it might be. We're so limited, bound by pain and emotion and our minds. When you're released from this life, is it freeing?

Maybe they look in on us every once and awhile. I can only hope that they're in a better place. Not because it makes what we've done any less abhorrent, but because they deserve it. Every soul deserves the thing most of us are still searching for: peace.

Goodnight Catnip. I hope you find yours soon.

Signed,

 _ **Gale**_


	20. The Last Time for Now

**A/N-** _the next letter is Katniss' reply so stay tuned :)_

* * *

Dearest Catnip,

I think this is the last letter I'll be writing- at least for awhile. Today marks the fifth year anniversary of the New Panem.

Whether we like it or not, the world doesn't slow down when bad things happen. The earth keeps turning and our number of days left to make a difference keep dwindling. If we waste them all by living in the past, we'll never get to enjoy the future that we helped create. So, I've chosen the future.

There will always be a special corner of my heart reserved for you. I've locked away every little thing I can remember about you. Our memories. Our laughter. There's pain there, too. Happiness and pain go hand in hand- I'm realizing you can't really have one without the other.

I'll never truly be completely healed, but then again, was I ever whole to begin with? Losing my father, starving in Twelve, whipped in the square. Every time an innocuous hovercraft flies over head, I panic because the sound reminds me of firebombs and all the people I couldn't save.

I met a girl, too. I haven't told you because I've been worried you'll think I'm trying to make you jealous. But that's not it at all. I've tried to compare you two, but it can't be done. You both were essential parts of my life, just at different times. You were the old Gale's. She's the new Gale's. She gives me a reason to wake up in the morning again and I'm realizing now that she's my hope - the same way Peeta is yours. With her, I think life can be okay again.

Look at us, Katniss. Look how far we've come. From two helpless, fatherless teenagers to rebels to citizens of a country that we can raise our children in.

I hope I cross your mind sometimes. Maybe when you're in the woods or just before you go to sleep. When the weather turns cold and you can see the little puffs of breath escaping your lips. I sometimes wonder where you are or what you're doing. I hope someday we'll be able to talk face to face, but I don't think that will happen any time soon. I'm not ready, yet. But there may come a day.

You were what kept me going in those hard days and no letter will ever be able to make you understand how vital you were to my sanity. People building people.

We've pieced ourselves back together with the help of others, Catnip. I plan on paying that forward.

For the last time for awhile,

Signed,

 ** _Gale_**


	21. Nineteen Years

Gale,

Nineteen years isn't the normal grace period for a response, I know. But it's taken me this long to sort out my feelings. I need to send this so you know why I never answer your calls. Why it's been so long.

I wasn't ready to hear what you had to say. It was too fresh. Too painful. I put all of your letters in a box and stored it away until I had the strength to face what was inside them. Well, the other day, I took it out and read them all. Every single letter. When I finished the last one, Peeta suggested I write back.

My words never seem to translate well on paper. Peeta had to stop me from ripping up the fiftieth sheet of paper last night. He said to pretend I'm having a conversation with you. So, this is me. Talking to my best friend in the woods.

My son is fourteen months old now, my daughter five. They never cease to amaze me. How can something can be so innocent? They get to grow up without the Games. Without fear. My one job left in this life is to make sure that they get what we never did.

If you told me I'd have a family nineteen years ago, I'd have probably punched or screamed at you. Maybe both. Surely, this was never on my list. But right now, I'm watching Peeta on the floor playing with Willow. The adoration on his face brings me more happiness than I'll ever be able to describe. When I tuck her in at night, her blue eyes are so much like his. Rye's on my lap. He has the Seam eyes. Grey and stormy. And I've never been more at home. These people make my life meaningful again.

I'm glad to hear that you didn't spend a lot of time moping around. You never were one to sit and wait until the action was over. By now, most of the information in those letters is probably outdated. Maybe you even have children of your own. But I want you to know that I do think about you. I hope you were able to find the same peace that I was.

Gale, you were such an essential part of my life. I never got to tell you that, so I am now. You found me, healed me, and let me find light again, too. Without you, I wouldn't be who I am today. I'm not going to lie, though, because we never did to each other, the rebellion tore you apart. It tore us all apart, but the anger and resentment flared especially in you. The revolution was the gasoline for your flames that consumed everything around you. I know because it happened to me too. We didn't grow apart because we're different, we grew apart because of how similar we are. It wasn't healthy anymore. I think back to all the times we fought and I know that separate paths were inevitable. You may think I chose Peeta for reasons other than the one I did, but you're mistaken. If we'd been meant to be, I would have found you. Called you. You were both so vital to me and I'll never forget that.

My Gale, the one in the woods, will always hold a special place in my memory. I wouldn't trade those days for the world, but neither would I trade this. What I have now.

Now comes the hard part. I don't blame you for her death. I think about her everyday. Every night. I'll never truly be able to separate you two, but war does terrible things to people. But still, Gale. You were supposed to look out for her. How could you have just let Prim go into action? She was so young. Surely there was something you could have done? Coin trusted you. Couldn't you have made her keep my family safe? And even as I write this, one thing comes to mind. No one in safe in the arena. And that couldn't have been more true.

I hope your life has come to something, that you've found happiness. Someday, maybe, I'll pick up the phone. I don't know. I'm living each day to its fullest, one moment at a time.

Goodnight,

 ** _Katniss_**

* * *

 **A/N-** _thanks so much for everyone's_ _support_. _This is_ _the last letter of this story. I want to thank everyone who followed/reviewed this often so I'm posting acknowledgments very soon!_


	22. Acknowledgements

**Acknowledgements:** I want to thank everyone who continually reviewed and read this story. It really helps me as a writer know where people's brains are as they read this! Your support didn't go unnoticed!

Thanks to:

IgNited

KateJaneAusten

NineNorth

Poolbreeze

meb04

musicalblairs

nandy7781

Eleid

CharlesTheBold

RainbowSpark18

cyberlynxnet

GrievesForYou

Danain

ZhiZhu

And all the guests who reviewed. Seriously, there were some very sweet things said!


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